


The Beginning of Always

by Littlevera



Category: Star Trek (2009), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-02
Updated: 2011-07-02
Packaged: 2017-10-20 22:42:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlevera/pseuds/Littlevera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim Kirk, in any reality, is very persistant, and resistance is futile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beginning of Always

“Nice night.”

Spock resists the urge to sigh. He did not doubt that Jim would find him, but he had anticipated he would have time to compose himself before he did. He had slipped out of the reception, hoping that the gathering would provide him with enough cover that Jim would not notice too soon that he had left. Though they were on opposite ends of the room, ostensibly attending to their duties as Captain and diplomat at the gathering, Spock spent the evening aware that Jim was watching him.

“Yes, it is.”

The nights on this planet are crystal clear, the sky dotted with an abundance of stars. The gardens surrounding the reception hall are beautiful, a testament to the prowess of this planet’s population in horticulture. There is a vibrant mix of flora that have been of much interest to his young counterpart and his science department while the negotiations progressed. As beautiful as the gardens are at night, they are exquisite under the sky’s suns. During the day, the air is thick with myriad scents, the colours more rich than Spock has ever seen before. Their horticultural expertise is part of what the inhabitants here are willing to share with other member planets of the Federation. They will be a welcome addition to the Federation, and the success of this mission another feather in Jim’s cap.

Tonight though, he abandons that fabricated beauty for the natural, wild landscape that remains at the end of the gardens. Untouched by the horticulturalists, the rocky, bare landscape is a small reminder of Vulcan. The night is sharp and cloudless, offering clarity that Spock could not find in the reception.

He is acutely aware of Jim next to him, watching him with the same implacable eyes he saw in the reception. There is no mistaking the intent in them, the desire to pursue him instead of his First Officer. Spock is not blind to his attraction to this man, but it is explained logically in the wealth of memories and feelings he carries for his Jim, now long gone. He reasons it is logical to feel this, although Jim has been anything but. In his relentless pursuit, Spock has received communiqués from Jim, sometimes twice a day, since as far back as the beginning of his command; and dinners on Earth, during whatever downtime they are there together. There are gifts too, small tokens – sometimes garish indicators of Jim’s sense of humour, but more often they are exquisite tokens of different cultures that leave Spock wondering how Jim could know him so well to guess what he would appreciate. On the journey to this planet, he was invited every night to a chess game in Jim’s quarters, and declined every time. It hasn’t stopped Jim. If anything, it seems to have had the opposite effect.

“You did well in the negotiations,” he says, because Jim’s natural charisma did win them many points and because a neutral topic will work to his advantage until he is ready for a very long-delayed conversation to continue.

“I will be joining you when you return to New Vulcan.”

“I beg your pardon?” At the statement from Jim, Spock forgives himself the lapse in control evidenced by the surprise in his voice and the content of his response. Jim speaks as if it is a foregone conclusion. He stares up at the sky, caught in the light of this planet’s nearly-full moon. His hair is mussed, Spock notes, when in the reception it was not. Spock imagines Jim running his hands through it nervously before finding him and he finds himself appreciating this look on Jim.

“I’m going to New Vulcan with you. I’ve informed Starfleet that Scotty needs some time to work on the engines, and it makes sense to do that when we take your delegation back.”

“Logical,” Spock replies, pleased his voice sounds normal. Jim raises an eyebrow at that.

“My First Officer will be overseeing any repairs. He and Starfleet are both aware I will be spending a few personal days with you. Unless, Scotty is reworking the entire engine room, we shouldn’t be disturbed.”

Spock wonders if sitting down right now would be wholly inappropriate for a Vulcan. No one can see him from the reception hall, that’s why he chose this spot. As if sensing his thoughts, Jim reaches for Spock’s elbow, as if there really was a seat there for the both of them to take. It is intimate and familiar and Spock pulls away.

Jim will not stop, he realizes. The man, like the Jim that Spock once knew, does not know when to give up.

“Why are you pursuing me?”

Tact is of no use here, they are both aware of what is going on. However, when relief flashes in Jim’s eyes, Spock wonders if maybe he’s miscalculated the direct approach after all.

“I want you.”

“You are misguided,” he replies immediately.

Jim smirks, shakes his head. “No, I am not.” He closes what little distance there is between them, his face tight with desire. His hands remain at his side, and Spock is aware that he can end this at any moment, that he can push Jim away and he will not be able to resist. But he doesn’t. Instead, he breathes in sharply at the other man’s nearness, and breathes in Jim. Male, and something musk, something deeper and different that does not tug on his memory, that does not remind him of anyone else.

“I am not a child who needs to be told what I should or shouldn’t feel,” he continues, eyes flicking down to Spock’s lips. “You should know that I don’t feel anything but friendship for my First Officer.”

Then, Spock does push him away.

“You are mistaken,” he says, striving hard to keep his voice firm. “You and he have time, it will happen, Jim.”

Jim bursts out laughing. Now that, Spock does raise an eyebrow at.

“He said you would say that.”

“Who?” Spock is aware his vocabulary and his logic are rapidly deserting him.

Jim, however, looks smug. “My First Officer. When I told him what I intended to do, he said you would respond like this.”

“He knows?” Spock can feel himself flushing at the knowledge his younger self has.

“Yes. He’s my best friend. Who else was I going to talk to about this?” Jim says as if Spock should know better than to question that. “He said I should be more direct without giving you a way out.”

Spock cringes at the thought of the time spent with the Commander on their journey here playing the chess games he’d refused Jim. His counterpart has known how Jim felt, but he never said a word.

“He and Lieutenant Uhura are no longer a couple, Jim,” Spock says, remembering how relieved he had been when the Commander had informed him of the status of his relationship with the Lieutenant. He did not want to see either man cheated of the relationship they could have with each other.

“I’m aware,” Jim nods. “Like I am aware he and I will be the best of friends.” He reaches for Spock now, ignoring all Vulcan etiquette. Again Spock pulls away, and Jim’s hands fall.

“I do not have romantic feelings for you,” he says, trying hard to recover from the illogic of Jim’s onslaught.

“You are a lousy liar.” The reply is immediate, as if Jim is fully aware of every response Spock will make.

“I know that you wouldn’t have avoided being alone with me if you were certain you didn’t have feelings for me. And let’s face it, Spock, you’re perfectly capable of stopping me from doing anything you don’t want me to do,” he says, nearing Spock again. “I know you had the Vulcan High Council and Sarek recommend to Starfleet that you be given the rank of Admiral which means you know exactly when the Enterprise will visit Earth, and every time we do, you’re there. And you’re not there to check-up on Spock.”

Spock flushes, it is impossible to do anything else under Jim’s burning regard. His eyes are fiercely daring him to contradict anything Jim is saying.

“I know you played chess with my First Officer, and asked about me. And you can’t be mad at him for telling me that, he just didn’t want me to give up on you.”

Spock’s throat dries, words failing him.

“So, please tell me again how you don’t have any feelings for me,” Jim says, cocking his head to one side, an eyebrow raised in invitation.

Spock swallows nervously, but remains silent.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to answer that,” he says, his lips twisting in amusement at his discomfort. “Now, you think Spock and I are…”

“Destined,” he says, finishing the sentence though the word burns in his throat. “I know your destiny, and it is with him.”

But, Jim is shaking his head already. “’Destiny’,” Jim snorts, “I really hate that word.” His eyes flick away and then back, and Spock is caught in them, in the swirl of emotions Jim rides so easily.

“You know nothing, Spock. All you have is a history lesson, one you think I should be repeating.” The response, the hard edge of it stings but Jim continues, gives him no quarter. “I make my own way, Spock, I always have. No one tells me how to live my life, especially if the only reason you have is that I look like some dead guy you once knew.”

Spock breathes in sharply, the sound rending the night air.

Jim’s eyes narrow, the blue cold. “You know what the funny thing is, he would tell you the same thing,” Jim laughs, the sound ugly. “That much I did make out from the meld.”

Spock wills his temper under control, anger which demands to be set loose against Jim for belittling the knowledge Spock has given him of his destiny. Jim is throwing everything he could be with his Spock away as if it was nothing and he cannot let that happen. He focuses on Jim’s words, on a way to end this now before more damage is done and Jim loses his chance with his counterpart.

“I must apologize, Jim. You are experiencing the memories, the feelings gained through our meld on Delta Vega and they are affecting your own. My control at that moment was not at its best. As a result, you and I are experiencing emotions meant for others.”

Both Jim’s eyebrows rise in disbelief.

“Seriously? That’s what you think?” Jim shrugs and throws his hands up as if in surrender. “Fine. Okay. If that’s what you need to tell yourself, I’m not going to argue.”

That is unexpected to say the least. Jim’s exasperation is clearly etched in his expression but there too Spock sees determination.

“So, what’s next, Spock? What other excuses do you have for me?” he demands. “Bring it on. But no matter what, my feelings for you are not going to change.”

The last is immutable, and Spock cannot ignore his own certainty that Jim will not give him up. It is a thought that is both unsettling and not to him.

Jim is close again, enough that Spock can feel his breath against his skin.

“That other reality is not my life, Spock.”

Spock starts when Jim’s fingers press against his own at his side for Jim’s eyes never waver from his. Jim’s fingers are slim, rough against his when Jim strokes the length of his own. Kissing Jim is easier than Spock expects. He frames Jim’s face with his hands before he devours his mouth and anything he might say. Jim is eager, his tongue thrusting against Spock’s and he tastes the sweetness of their host’s wine that flowed at the reception. Jim tastes of possibility, of promise too and Spock wants both and more with him. His fingers tighten pressing into Jim’s skin, holding him still in order to continue plundering his beautiful mouth. Some part of him realizes Jim is resisting, straining against him as if he wants to stop, but Spock silences those protests easily pulling him against his body.

“Spock…” Jim says, in between kisses. His lips are red and bruised, so Spock gentles his kisses, tracing the lower one. Jim braces his hands against Spock’s chest, pushing him away slightly.

“Yes?” he prods, pleased at the glazed look in Jim’s eyes.

“We’re making this our destiny.” The words are soft, but firm and Spock sees his future with Jim stretch out before him. It is a destiny worth making his own.


End file.
